Wish Upon A Star
by ExoRipper
Summary: A hasty wish, made in a heartbeat and fueled by anger. An outcome Connor didn't expect, or even want. A blink of an eye, and he woke up in Beacon. During the season 3 finale of all times and places. His future went down the drain that day, his average fate turned grim before his very eyes. Caught up in the dark affairs of a foreign world, how will he fare? OC-Centric.
1. Chapter 0: Connor Trailer

**Note:** In which Connor is introduced, and promptly goes overboard.

 **Warning:** Reader discretion is adviced, as the chapter contains (excessive) violence, and mild descriptions of blood and wounds.

* * *

 **Chapter 0:** Connor Trailer

* * *

It was a quiet autumn evening, leaves turning rusty on their branches and the chilly wind chasing away the heat of the day gone by. Connor walked home, fresh out of his shift. He wandered the streets, with a small detour in mind. All around him, people walked aimlessly, enjoying the bearable weather while it still lasted.

He reached a small bar on the corner of a building. A rustic locale with large windows, a hardwood floor, walls of exposed bricks, and proclaiming itself an inn. That was if the neon sign hanging outside the door, reading Marie's Inn, told the truth, which Connor knew full well didn't. But the name caught on, and attracted people in the otherwise urban area.

Much like it'd attracted him for the first time all those months ago, when he'd seen it in passing and decided to check it out. He loved the quiet, calm atmosphere. The soothing jazz playing in the background. The lightbulbs made to look like torches, hung around on walls and the few pillars in the room.

He swung the backpack off his shoulders as he entered, and threw it on a chair. With a tired grunt and a loud creak, he allowed himself to fall next to it, the wooden chair beneath him tipping and almost having him fly on his back. The other patrons shot him glares for that, and for his rude breaking of their silence, so he cracked a worried smile and waved his hand as a sorry.

From behind the counter, Marie chuckled at his little stunt, covering her rosy lips with the back of her hand. She got out in the open and approached his table, Connor's eyes glued to her every move. Because he loved the bar, and their _ale_ , but Marie...

Oh, Marie. Her dark hair flowing gently down her shoulders, the knee lenght dress that covered her legs, and the way she grew to tease and annoy him the moment she'd noticed him become a regular patron at her place. Friendly teasing, mind you, with skin-deep jabs and muted laughter to not disturb the rest of the clients, but it had done the trick for him. Caught his attention, then his interest, and slowly his heart.

"Hey Connor, how's your day been?" She asked, stopping next to him and leaning on the table with both hands.

"Usual stuff," Connor answered. "Wake up, go to work, come home, grab a mug of something. You know," he said, leaning closer to her.

"So what will you have?"

"A mug of your cheapest _a_ _le_ ," he ordered, particularly attentive to make the sarcasm attached to that last word obvious. Because he knew the difference between ale and lager beers, unlike the rest of the people that frequented this place in search of nothing more than a mug of something cold, and he made sure to annoy Marie with that fact whenever he got the chance.

"Anything else?" She asked, the look in her eyes threading dangerously close to his.

"A minute of your time, maybe..." Connor teased.

Marie straightened her back suddenly, popping up straight from the leaning position. A smile appeared on her lips, warming up her features and giving them an almost surreal glow. In Connor's eyes at least, the same ones he couldn't convince to break away from her slender figure and the light steps that carried her back behind the counter.

She returned with a tall glass mug on a tray, filled to the brim with golden liquid and white foam on top. Connor took it, and sipped some out so it wouldn't spill. Marie sat next to him, leg over leg, facing him. With a curious air about her, and not muttering a single word as Connor simply stared.

"Soooo..." she mumbled, seeing Connor put down the mug. "A minute of my time?"

"Yeah," Connor answered, looking like he'd suddenly remembered something. Which made her heart pump just a bit faster. "I wanted to ask...how's _your_ day been?"

She sighed and waved her hand around, as if trying to dissipate his cluelessness. Her feet planted themselves firmly, and she wanted to get up.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Connor burst out, on the verge of yelping as he jumped and caught her hand. "Good God, I'm not that stupid..." he mumbled as she sat back down. "Or am I?"

"Honestly," Marie answered as her smile returned, "you're worse most of the time."

"Ouch, that really hurt," he joked as his voice softened. "You really know how to dish out a blow." She chuckled, but the questioning look in her eyes remained. "Wanna hang out when you're done here?" He gave in.

"Sure thing," she answered with enthusiasm. "But."

"Here we go..."

"Only if you promise you won't repeat the club fiasco three weeks ago," she demanded.

"Promise," Connor answered in a heartbeat. A bit too fast for her liking, so she raised her eyebrow and made it obvious that she didn't buy it. "For real, I promise I'll behave this time," Connor pressed on. "No drinking, no dancing, no...disastrous end. We'll go somewhere alone, just the two of us..."

"Aww, fine," she gave in with a cheery voice. Particularly pleased by that _just the two of us, alone_ part, but she'd not let him in on that just yet. "You better not make me regret this," she continued, leaning over to him and stealing a quick kiss.

That did the trick, cutting his messy line short as his breath got caught in his throat. He watched her get up and walk away, only answering an _mhmm_ when she asked if he'd wait for her here.

The beer disappeared one sip at a time, so slow that it neared room temperature. Marie did laps of the room, serving the other clients and shooting Connor quick, amused glances. She'd never seen him as quiet, and with a smile as big and dumb as he sported now. Which was a nice change of pace, she thought. Made him look almost cute, like a small puppy waiting for his master's return.

Lost in her every move, he noticed a blur of movement by the entrance. His head turned to face it, and he saw three men enter the small bar one by one, all wide shoulders and imposing figures. Their exposed forearms were covered in matching tattoos, likely members of a local gang or another.

Connor turned his attention back on the beer, ignoring them. One of them pointed his way.

'Oh boy...'

Two broke away from the exit and approached his table, while the last one remained by the door.

'Not letting me slip away, huh?'

They neared his table, and stopped in front of him. One grabbed his backpack and threw it to the floor, sitting down on the chair.

'Thug one,' Connor decided.

The other one sat down opposite of his friend, squishing Connor in the middle. He put his hands on the table and leaned on them, trying to look as relaxed as possible.

'Thug two,' Connor continued in his head. 'And guy by the door is thug three. No, Pussy actually,' he decided, seeing the man stay behind.

He picked up his beer, and took a slow sip out of it. Thug one leaned into him, bumping his shoulder and almost making him spil the mug.

"Could you guys not?" Connor mumbled on a tired tone. Not wanting to attract attention, and most of all not wanting to scare Marie. "I'm really not in the mood..."

He received another shoulder bump for an answer, this time from his right. He took a deep breath, trying to stifle his anger and hoping he'd see it through without a fight.

"Let's talk this out," he told the men. "I'm sure it's all a...misunderstanding."

"You're Connor, right?" Thug one asked from his left.

Another sigh.

"Yeah," he answered. "But I never met you guys before, I didn't do anything to you. If you want to fight me just for the heck of it, we can do it some other time."

Thug one let out a puff of air through his nose. A laugh maybe, Connor thought, but not any less annoying.

"Not us, but you've met my cousin," the man answered.

"Care to refresh my memory?"

"Tall, blonde, perfect teeth," Thug one explained. "Until he met you at the club, and you knocked a few of them loose. Rings a bell?"

Connor searched him mind for a few moments, trying to see if it'd return anything resembling that. A night three weeks ago, dazzling lights, loud music, a crowded dance floor, and a few too many beers. Some guy with a bad attitude and too big of a mouth for his own good hit on Marie, and went into creep territory despite both her's and Connor's protests. So he decided to punch some sense into him, bring him back down to Earth from whatever alcohol-fueled world he was in.

"It does," Connor answered. "But he started it, I only defended myself and my friend," he tried to explain.

He looked around the room as he talked, observing his surroundings. The other clients shot them worried glances, some hurried to finish their beers, and others left altogether, with nothing but half-empty mugs to show they were ever there. Marie froze behind the counter, with a look of pure terror in her eyes.

Connor smiled her way, and gestured her that he had the situation under control. Tried to act confident too, but she didn't buy it for a moment. Her hands reached beneath the counter, and she pulled out a phone, gesturing him to stay put as she mouthed _police_ and left for the backroom.

"So please..."

"Outside," Thug one continued. "We can _talk_ all you want outside."

"You won't reconsider, huh?" He asked. Thug one nodded a no. "Fine," Connor continued, "how about this then? If you don't leave me alone, I'll break your teeth. Your pal's too," he threatened on a serious tone. "I'm not kidding, I'll make you regret walking through that door," he pressed on when he saw the man grin.

"Get a load of..."

Connor jerked around on the seat. Decked Thug one to his left, pushing the rest of his words back down his throat. The punch connected with his face, and sent him flying on his back, seat and all.

"You little..."

Connor dodged below a punch from his right, and pushed against the floor with his legs. His chair slid backwards, and he kicked it away from beneath himself as he jumped to his feet.

The man by the door approached him from behind, seeing as Connor didn't plan to use the exit any time soon. Thug one ran a finger on his upper lip, brushing away the sliver of blood escaping his nostrils. They all tensed up, ready for the brawl that would follow.

Connor swivelled around on his heels, and took off. His left shoulder came up as he ran, and he tackled Pussy onto a table. An occupied table, whose clients screamed and jumped to their feet. With his fists raised, he turned and blocked a swipe from thug number one.

The men went right on the offensive, trying to gang up on him. A classic _knock him down and kick his lights out_ move, so Connor tried to keep them separated. He backpaddled, away from them and towards the bar, trying to decide on the order in which to fight them.

'Thug one is pretty big,' he thought. 'Can't focus on him, it'll give the other two an upper hand. Thug two is scrawnier, but he's still buff...' The men separated, trying to flank him. Thug one came at him head on, while the other two came at his sides. 'Pussy is the smallest,' he concluded, watching them move one step at a time. 'Probably good at catching up to people and tackling them, but not much else...'

He reached the bar, his back colliding with the counter as he ran out of space. Thug one took the opportunity and charged him, but Connor smiled at that. He took on a low stance, feet spread wide and arms covering his face. The man realized what was about to happen, but he didn't have time to stop. Connor dashed ahead and slammed his chest in Thug one's abdomen. He got up and leaned back, using the man's momentum to throw him over his head and onto the counter.

Thug one landed wide-eyed, with a hollow thud and glass bottles smashed to pieces as he rolled off the counter and behind the bar. The other two watched in disbelief, frozen in place and with their guards up.

Connor grabbed a chair next to him and threw it at Thug two. Before it hit, he took off running for Pussy, his left arm drawn back and ready. Distracted by the seat hitting his friend in the face, Pussy didn't manage to see him coming, or much less dodge the punch.

It connected with his lower ribs, and Connor almost carried him off his feet. A sharp yelp left the man's lips, and he fell to the floor, squirming as he grabbed his abdomen and struggled to breathe.

"Motherfucker!" Thug two yelled.

Connor turned to face him, and saw his eyes bulged with anger. They held the intent to kill, sharp and focused, red veins popping out of their white sclera as he charged ahead. The chair he'd caught came down on Connor's head, one of it's legs breaking against his left shoulder as the force of the hit pushed him to his knees.

"Think you're some big shot?!" Thug two screamed, lifting the chair for another hit.

Connor looked up at him, his scalp gashed and bleeding. Surprisingly calm given his condition and circumstances, which made Thug two hesitate for a moment. Connor shot to his feet, and planted the top of his head in the man's mouth with all his might. They flew off their feet and landed on a table, one of it's legs giving way under their combined weight. Entangled in a mess of blind punches and kicks, they rolled to the floor, with Connor on top.

"Say goodbye to your teeth!" Connor yelped and dove his left elbow in the man's mouth.

He got up, the left arm good as useless after the two stunts he'd put it through. Next to him, thrashing about wildly, thug two spit out blood as he gurgled nonsense.

'Fuck, I overdid it,' Connor thought, feeling the blinding pain that surged through his left arm. Between the punch and the elbow dive, the thing had likely dislocated somewhere along its length. And now it hung by his side, a useless bundle of crackling lightnings that jabbed the back of his skull.

He looked around the bar, at the terrified clients that hadn't managed to flee yet. They were frozen near the walls and windows, retreated as far away as they could get from the madness. By the door that lead to the back room, Marie stood with tears in her eyes and her mouth covered in shock.

"Marie, I'm..." Connor blabbered, reaching his right hand in her direction. She hid behind the door frame partially, a clear message for him to stay away, so he stopped talking. Not like a simple sorry would change anything anyway.

He noticed the distinct lack of gibberish from the floor, so he turned around. Pussy and Thug two made their escape, limping towards the exit.

'Cowards...'

With his back turned, he didn't notice Thug one get up his feet. All he heard was Marie, screaming his name, as the man ran into him and stomped him to the floor.

"I'll...fucking...end you..." he struggled, kicking Connor's ribs with all his strength.

From outside, the other two yelped in surprise. The door of the bar flew open, and two police officers entered side by side, batons ready in their hands.

"Everyone freeze, hands behind your heads!" One of the officers instructed.

Thug one stopped mid-kick, with one foot in the air. Connor grabbed it and pulled it out from beneath himself, making him crash to the floor face first.

"I said freeze!" The officer repeated, reaching for his taser.

Connor leapt on the man's back as he retreated, and coiled his right arm around the guy's shoulder. Pulled it back, until their arms locked properly.

"Told you," he said as he pulled the arm further back and planted his foot between the man's shoulder blades. "I'll make you regret it."

With a single, swift motion, he jerked his body to the left. A sickening crunch left Thug one's shoulder as it dislocated out of its socket, and he broke out with yelps of pain and profanities spit out between clenched teeth.

Connor let go of the arm, and it fell to the floor limp. A sharp shock surged through his body before he could take a step away, made him crash down as his world went blurry and dark.

* * *

"You have a visitor," a voice resounded through the empty corridor.

Connor grunted and turned to face the cell's door. His entire body ached from head to toe, and his left arm was wrapped in a piece of cloth that kept it tight against his torso. The movement made it flare up with hurt again, as he'd not been given any painkillers.

'Fuck...'

And to make matters worse, the harsh neon light of the police station fed his splitting headache. It was an unrelenting sensation, crawling beneath his scalp and pinning needles in his brain.

"Where is he? I'll kill him this time!" A second voice joined the first, at the end of the corridor.

'Double fuck...'

Hasty steps echoed through the otherwise empty place, and stopped in front of his cell. Connor peeled his eyes open, struggling to filter out the flood of white light so he could make out his brother.

"Sup Chris," he mumbled.

His brother sighed and reached a hand to his forehead, threading it through his hair in frustration, yet careful not to disturb the glasses on his nose. His tall, slender figure slowly took contour between the iron bars, until Connor could make out his features.

"Why?" Chris shot a simple question his way.

"Ughh..." Connor answered. "Can you not right now?"

"No, Connor," his brother shot him down. "I can't _n_ _ot_ right now. It's kinda difficult."

"Because they deserved it," Connor answered. "I tried to talk it out, they attacked me, I gave them hell..."

"That's not what I heard," Chris said, his voice growing louder and betraying his anger. "I heard you attacked them first. I heard Marie called the cops, and you couldn't help yourself and stay put until they arrived."

"So maybe I decked a guy, and maybe I decked him first. What if?" Connor broke out. "They planned to kick my ass, so I kicked theirs first!"

"You broke two ribs on one guy, TWO!" Chris yelled. "Broke the other guy's jaw, along with his front teeth! And dislocated the last guy's shoulder and clavicle, in front of two officers no less!" He got up against the iron bars, so pumped up that Connor feared for a moment he'd break into his cell and strangle him. "Is that fucking self defence?!"

Connor didn't answer. He fell on his back and closed his eyes, pointing his face at the ceiling. Couldn't look at Chris directly, and face what he'd done.

"I went overboard, I know..." he said after a while, as Chris calmed down. That only made him flare back up.

"A little overboard? Understatement of the fucking century," Chris answered.

"Come on, man," Connor pleaded. "You gotta side with me here, you're my brother. I defended myself, I swear."

"I can't," Chris answered, the regret his voice carried loud and clear. "There's witnesses. Testimonies. You started the fight, and you went against the officer's orders when they got there."

Silence settled after Chris finished his line. Connor searched his brain, and analysed everything his brother had presented to him. Witnesses, of course there were many of those, and they complicated stuff. Plus Marie's bar had security cameras, so he couldn't spin this around no matter how hard he'd try.

"Did they tell you anything else?" He asked. "How long is my sentence this time?"

"Six months," Chris answered.

"What?!" Connor yelped.

"You're a regular troublemaker, they've grown tired of you, so they won't reduce it any further," Chris explained. "You're lucky the other guys have worse criminal records and instigation to violence, else you'd be looking at quite a few years behind bars for the shit you did this time."

"How big's my bail?" Connor asked. "I have some money saved up and..."

"No bail this time," Chris cut him short.

"What?! Come on, bro!" Connor broke out, his voice a mix of anger and pleading.

"No!" Chris yelled back. "We can't afford to pay your bails anymore, it's time you learn your lesson. Your actions have consequences, Connor!"

"Six months, Chris!" Connor pleaded. "I'll lose my job, my friends!"

Chris turned to leave, with tears in his eyes. Seeing his younger brother like this hurt, it stung his innards and broke his heart, but he couldn't put up with it anymore. Couldn't put up with _him_ any more, and hoped that this would finally make Connor realize that he can't act out every whim that passes through his head.

"Mom and Dad will visit you tomorrow morning, get ready for that..." Chris said as he took a step away. "Oh, and Marie said you're banned from her bar too. She doesn't want you near that place, or herself, ever again."

"Fuck you bro!" Connor yelled as Chris left.

He fell back down on the hard mattress and tried to unwind his tired everything. Heavy thoughts circled his mind, of actions and results and what he could've done differently. But all of that didn't help, or even matter at that point. What had been done had been done, and despite his regrets, he was ready to face the consequences he'd created for himself.

* * *

 **End notes:** And that does it for this trailer. I hope you all enjoyed it, I welcome all of you back, and until next time Exo out!


	2. Chapter 1: Careful What You Wish For

**Note:** In which a seemingly harmless wish goes south for Connor, but proves entertaining for _someone_ else.

* * *

 **Part 1: Welcome To The Fray**

 **Chapter 1: Careful What You Wish For**

* * *

Chris stopped in front of one of the large windows in the long corridor, guided by a guard since he'd entered. Thick glass separated him from those inside, and he sat down in the plastic chair as he observed the man on the other side.

Sprawled in his seat, with the intercom pressed against his ear and propped in his shoulder, Connor waited. He gave his brother a soft smile, and pointed at the intercom on the other side.

"Sup Chris, how's life?" He asked the moment he picked up.

His left arm was still bandaged, though he'd gotten some of its use back. Still hurt like hell though, and he made a point of moving his shoulder around to tease the pain out. The gash on his head was much better off, mostly done with healing and the stitches hidden by his hair.

"Can you take this seriously for once?" Chris complained, trying to relax but coming up a bit short.

He'd visited his brother often in the past two months, despite the fact he couldn't stand it. Not the prison, not the sight of his sibling in an orange jumpsuit, and especially not Connor's calm attitude towards his own predicament.

"Stress shortens my lifespan," Connor teased.

"But your shenanigans don't?" Chris asked.

"Did you come here to see me, or judge my life again?" Connor asked, a hint of frustration behind his voice. "Cause if it's the latter, it can wait 'till I get out..."

"About that..." Chris continued, ignoring the jab. "Mom couldn't take it any more, so she said she'll pay your bail. BUT," he spoke up, seeing Connor's grin, "on one condition: no more fights."

"I promise," Connor answered almost instantly. Which made Chris frown, because he knew his little brother all too well.

"Not like that, it won't be so easy," he said on a dry tone.

"I swear on my life," Connor pressed on, not in the least pleased by the prospect of spending four more months in there.

Chris nodded a silent no.

"On her life, or mine," he answered. "Or better yet, on both. You'd be dead ten times over by now for swearing on your own."

Connor took a moment to ponder that. Dishing out promises didn't bother him, even though he knew he'd not keep them. Swearing on his own life, even less. But he'd made a point to never swear on someone else's, just in case such stupid superstitions would come true.

"Do we have a deal?" Chris asked, seeing his brother keep silent.

"We do," Connor answered.

"No, that won't cut it. You're not getting around this one, I want to hear you say it," he pressed on.

"Fine," Connor relented. "I swear on mom's life, and on yours, that I won't fight people ever again. Happy now?"

"Yeah," Chris said with a victorious smile. "Pack your bags."

* * *

They stood in front of a five-story building, with the family car purring gently behind them. It's trunk laid open, revealing boxes packed haphazardly with clothes, dishes, and all of Connor's possessions.

He spun a set of keys around on his fingers, their clatter filling the silence, with an insecure smile that hid his anxiety. Because he'd never taken care of himself, quite the opposite in fact. But it had to happen sooner or later.

"Are you sure about this?" Eve, his mother, asked by his side. She fidgeted on the spot, her eyes red as they held back tears. "You can always change your mind."

"Nah Mom, I'll be fine. Don't worry," he assured her.

"Isn't this a bit too...drastic?" Chris asked as well.

"You forcing my hand with that promise was drastic," Connor answered. "Besides hopping towns and getting a fresh start, there's no other chance for me to keep it."

About two months ago, Chris and Eve had pooled together what little money they had to pay his bail. And they hadn't asked for anything in return, not a single dime, only that he'd stop and think his actions through once in a while. But that was easier said than done. Years of stupid stunts and running his mouth had garnered him quite a reputation, and just as many people that wanted to kick his ass on sight.

So he decided to move. Leave the nest, start fresh somewhere else where no one knew his face and habits. A new life, far from the countless mistakes that ruined his old one.

And truthfully, it wasn't _that_ far away. A little over an hour's drive stood between his family and himself, so it wasn't like he'd moved to the north pole.

"Let's get going," he said as he approached the trunk and grabbed one of the boxes.

From behind him, Chris joined in the effort with a displeased grunt. He tackled the biggest box in sight, perched it on his hands, and caught up to his brother.

"It's a nice place..." he mumbled under the labored breaths.

"Yeah. Quiet town, folks minding their own business," Connor answered. "Hard to run into trouble if you don't make it yourself," he added with a chuckle.

He stopped by the entrance, fumbling with the keys in search of the right one. His eyes wandered around the large, empty space between the buildings, caught on all the greenery and trees. The locals strolled around in the chilly autumn breeze, and he noticed them shoot him passing glances.

'Just smile back,' he told himself.

A petite girl on a bench met his stare with hers, and answered his smile with her own. She looked a bit confused by him, but he'd expected his new neighbours to be curious.

"I already like this place," he told Chris as he turned the key and opened the door.

* * *

"Hey sweetie, how was your week?"

"It was good, Mom..." Connor answered his phone, still half asleep.

"How was work? Are you well? Do you eat healthy like I taught you?" Eve bombarded him with questions.

"Crappy, yeah, and yeah..." he answered again, a bit annoyed. "You don't need to worry about me, I'm not a kid anymore."

"Oh Connor, I'll always worry for my baby."

He sighed as he got up. It had been a boring, long week, so the moment he got home he flopped in the bed. A nap quickly subdued him, and he decided he wouldn't even try to fight it back.

"Hello? Earth to Connor, are you still there?" Eve asked loudly.

"Yes mom, I didn't go anywhere. What were you saying?"

"I asked if I can come visit tomorrow," she repeated the question he missed.

"Not tomorrow, I've got a date planned .and I'll be out late. I'll be home all Sunday though, you can come then."

"Oh, a date?!" Someone broke out in the background. "Give me the phone, Mom!"

"Fine, fine..."

He listened to the fight and to the distorted sounds coming from the other end, pack of cigarettes in hand as he made his way to the kitchen between various unpacked boxes and the general chaos that came with moving out. It shook as he opened a window, and he lit up the cigarette that came out.

"Yo," he yelled.

"Yeah," an answer came, this time from his brother.

"How are you Chris?"

"I'm good lil' bro, stellar!" Chris answered. "You on the other hand though, you sound much better off. Not even a month since you left home, and you're already hitting it off with chicks."

He gave Chris a chuckle and puffed the cigarette.

"You know it man. I hit it off great with a girl at work, so I thought why not give it a shot..."

"Go for it bro. Also, how are you holding out on that promise?"

Connor sighed. He leaned on the sill, pushing his head out into the chilly breeze. Winter neared closer every day, and although it hadn't snowed yet, it wasn't far off either.

"Still going strong," he answered. "I got angry a few times, but I walked away. It's eating me up inside though..."

"It'll get easier, hang in there," Chris reassured him. Conscious of the struggle his brother went through, and of the difficulty of fighting back his nature. "And besides, me and Mom aren't near you this time to save your ass, so you're on your own."

They kept talking for a while, about anything and everything. The rest of his brothers and sisters were worried for him as well. Knowing his feisty nature, they all expected him to get into trouble by now. Which, surprisingly enough, hadn't happened yet.

"So are you doing anything tonight?" Chris asked.

"I'll catch up on one show or another, and go to sleep. I'm tired," Connor answered.

"Which one?" Chris asked.

Connor was reluctant to answer. He knew they both watched the same shows, and he knew how much Chris liked spoiling them for him.

"I think I'll go with RWBY. The Walking Dead has an entire season I've missed, Breaking Bad as well..." he explained. "But I only missed the season three finale on RWBY."

Chris smiled and started to laugh.

"Want some spoilers?!" He burst out. "Pyrrha gets..."

"Shut the fuck up!" Connor yelped back, cutting his brother short. "I didn't go on the internet all week to avoid them, don't you dare!"

Chris laughed louder at that, so Connor couldn't help himself and joined in.

"Okay, Imma leave you to it," he said after he stopped.

"Okay, bye bro. See you Sunday."

"Take care of yourself," Chris said and hung up the call.

* * *

Connor extinguished the cigarette and threw it out the window, pausing for a moment as he looked around below. The small city sprawled in front of him, claiming the night with lights and activity as far as the eye could see. Which was quite far from the fifth floor where his small apartment resided, and he loved the view.

His eyes slid across the scenery, over the sea of rusty leaves and stubby red rooftops poking out of it. Settled in front of his building, and on the people passing by. Some walked, some jogged, and a single girl stared at her phone as she stood on a bench outside. A pretty cute girl at that, much like his coworker and potential date, or the rest of them for that matter.

'Plenty of fish,' he thought with amusement for a moment.

He went back to his room after a while, with a plate of food in his hands. The evening was quiet, which made him sleepy, but he really wanted to see the season 3 finale.

As his crappy laptop turned on and buffered the video, he changed in his pajamas: a white shirt with cartoonish skulls patterned on it, a pair of plain pants, and his never missing wool socks. The ones Chris always gave him shit for, but he couldn't care less else his feet would freeze over.

The episode started as the sun dipped below the horizon. Night settled outside, and the first stars lit up the sky with their faint shine. Connor got angrier by the second as he kept watching. Jaune had finally kissed Pyrrha, but then she went to fight Cinder alone. Yang lost her arm, Ozpin probably his life, and Roman managed to topple the atlesian army.

As the final confrontation between Pyrrha and Cinder began, he was so focused he forgot to breathe. It was amazing to see her being able to go toe to toe with a maiden. Then disaster struck again. He watched in disbelief as Cinder defeated and then killed Pyrrha. He leaned back in his chair and took off his headset.

"Fuck this show," he mumbled with his eyes closed just as Ruby's silver eyes manifested.

He opened his eyes and looked beyond the monitor. Through the window, he could see a red star glimmering lonely. Venus, or the Vesper if he remembered correctly. The night's first star.

'I wish I could've been there to change their fates...'

He closed his eyes again and sighed. The chair beneath him suddenly got colder, and he could feel a breeze run through his hair and across his skin. As he opened his eyes to check if he left the window open, he saw that his room was gone and he was on the ground.

An empty street unfolded in front of him instead, with lamps puncturing it's darkness here and there. He looked further ahead in confusion, and saw an all too familiar tower with a dragon circling it.

"Fuck..."

* * *

"Hmm? What is this?" A dark figure questioned.

It sat alone in a spacious room, at the head of a long table. A round grimm floated lazily in front of it, it's long tentacles swaying gently from side to side.

In it, the figure could see Beacon's downfall take place. It watched the hunters struggle, the army fall, and chaos overtake the academy.

The doors of the room opened wide and a woman walked through. It didn't bother to look up at her as she approached.

"Lord," she addressed it and bowed. "Am I interrupting?"

The figure shook it's hand her way, it's eyes still glued to the grimm in front of it.

"No," it answered, it's deep voice echoing softly. "Report..."

"Everything is going according to the plan. Cinder found the maiden and..."

Bla bla bla, she went on and on. The figure barely listened, its attention attracted by the boy that appeared out of nowhere instead.

"...and soon victory shall be ours!" She finished boasting.

"Very well," it gave a short, uninterested answer.

"Is something wrong, my Lord?" The woman asked with worry. "Did we displease you?"

The figure looked away from the grimm, its eyes wide with surprise.

"No Salem, of course not," it assured her. "But an interesting development took place, and I have to divert my attention away..." The surprise in its eyes faded, and it looked back at the grimm. "So I will let you handle things, I believe you are capable to..."

"Of course, my Lord!" Salem answered with enthusiasm. "I shall leave then, and attend my duties!"

She turned and left the room. The doors closed with loud creaks, and silence settled around the figure once again. It watched the boy walk the streets of Beacon, with curiosity.

A grimm approached him from behind a corner. The figure smiled.

"Welcome to the fray..."

* * *

 **A/N:** There's a poll on my profile regarding this story, so go and vote to make yourself heard :)


End file.
